Kire17
Julia's words hung in the air, her coy hint of being with child stirring fear within me. I felt torn between the curiosity of seeing her transform into a glowing new mother and the dread of her suffering through birth and the dangers surrounding the process—both for mother and child.
Julia offered a devious smile and turned away from me. "I'll retrieve Xavier from Charles if you return Audrey to her mother."
"Wait a moment," I said, reaching for her. "What did you say? Are you…?"
Her face appeared flushed when she looked up at me. "A week more and I should know for certain," she said, seemingly untroubled by her statement.
I was more than troubled for the two of us, especially considering how unwell Meg appeared in the hallway and the trouble the second child had faced.
She disappeared into the study, leaving me with a newborn that had started to stir. The baby began to flick her tongue out and squirm in my grasp. With her face scrunched up and balled fists swinging aimlessly, she began to cry in the most shrill, deafening tone imaginable.
I was absolutely certain I had never walked the hall so swiftly in my life.
"Meg," I said quite forcefully as I tapped on the door. The baby wailed louder than before, accentuating the urgency of the situation. "Madame Lowry!"
"You may come in," Meg said, though her voice sounded somewhat strained.
I opened the door with caution and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, her face ashen and features pinched. The moment she saw me with her daughter in hand, she reached out and smiled. Moments before, she had appeared strong, but now she looked drained and exhausted.
Julia walked up behind me and entered the room with the second baby in her arms. She placed him into a cradle beside the bed and motioned for me to step forward.
"Charles will join you once your mother returns home," Julia told Meg. "He's writing his colleagues regarding the good news."
"I'm going to end up in an article at Oxford," Meg replied over her daughter's insistent wails. She seemed amused, though somewhat distracted. Pain, I assumed, had wrapped its tight, relentless grasp around her.
With my eyes averted, I handed Meg her daughter, then quickly turned and walked out of the room, having more than enough of seeing Meg in her post childbirth state.
Once I reached the end of the hall, I took a deep breath and wiped my hand over my face. The baby quieted down and a moment later Julia walked out of the room and shut the door behind her.
"Well, you certainly were in a hurry to leave," she commented with a chuckle. "You do realize she is not diseased or afflicted, don't you?"
I turned to face her, seeing no reason for her amusement. "She's in a perfectly normal state," I said, merely to test her response.
Julia shrugged. "Yes, I would say so." She stepped closer to me and smiled. "I was the same way when Lissy was born."
"How so?" I questioned.
"Overjoyed yet uncertain," she answered. "She's fortunate to have her mother nearby and thank God for my nursing experience seeing as how her doctor was ill. I admit I wasn't expecting to spend our first day married alongside Meg, but how fortunate for all of us that we didn't leave after the wedding. I can't imagine what would have happened." She took a deep breath and exhaled hard. "She's a beautiful new mother."
I didn't argue, though I silently disagreed. Meg had looked absolutely miserable and exhausted, I wanted to tell her. Pain was etched on her round face, her usually bright eyes ringed with dark circles. If there had ever been a living portrait of agony, I thought Meg Lowry fit the description perfectly.
Seeing my wife's sudden appreciation and joy regarding childbirth, I held my tongue.
"Oh, to hold your child for the first time," she added dreamily.
Julia made every attempt to reel me back into her perfect fantasy of child rearing, but I felt no desire for another baby. I considered telling her as much but knew she would attempt to argue her case.
She looked up at me and immediately frowned. "You don't agree?" she asked, her shoulders dropping.
I stammered for the correct words. "I have not said a word," I argued.
"You don't need to say a word. I know your expression…your posture…"
Damn my expression and posture, I thought. Agitated, I turned away and exhaled hard. "We've already had this conversation," I said, even though I suspected we would continue to have the same one until Julia was satisfied with the outcome.
"You do know there may not be a choice, don't you?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around me and clasped her hands just above my navel.
"Of course I do," I answered softly, knowing with just one touch she had cowed me into submission. "But if you are not, then I would like to take the proper precautions to prevent such…incidences."
I felt her whole body vibrate against my back as she chuckled to herself. "Ah, yes, the proper precautions," she said dryly. You sound like a medical textbook."
"I sound like a man concerned for his wife's physical state," I retorted firmly. I pulled her hands away and turned to face her. "I don't ever want to see you in such pain, especially when your suffering is because of me."
She looked up at me and frowned, the light in her eyes dimmed momentarily. "I wouldn't consider a child with you as suffering," she said, still making an attempt to convince me.
"You do not know what could happen to that child or to yourself," I reminded her, my tone harsher than I intended.
She searched my face and I felt her slowly draw back. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled hard. "Erik, I understand your fears, but please…please just listen to me."
Her voice hinted at tears and I nodded, taking her hands in mine. I hadn't meant to upset her, but I couldn't bear another moment of keeping my fears to myself.
"Give me our honeymoon," she pleaded. "A chance, at least, to start a family."
"We have a family," I reminded her, frustrated by her insistence. "We have a complete family right here. Our son and our daughter, Julia, there is nothing more I want."
"But I want more," she blurted out.
Her confession gave me pause. "More?" I asked. Naturally I had expected her answer, but I didn't want to admit it. Quite foolishly I had hoped she would forget her designs on expanding our family.
Julia frowned. "Yes. Of course."
"How many more?" I asked.
We had not discussed the amount of children she desired and I truly wished we had spoken previously. Perhaps a contract was in order, a signed and dated agreement for our future. We hadn't even been married twenty-four hours and suddenly she had planned apparently many additions to our family.
"At least one," she said warily, obviously aware of my hesitation.
"Julia—"
"Why?" she asked suddenly. "Why are you so adamantly against another child? Our child?"
I knew by her phrasing that she would argue all day, a champion for her cause. Not just her child, but ours…the one I had no desire to ever see conceived.
"I told you when we first met I had no interest in another baby," I tried to explain. She made me feel somewhat selfish, but I felt I was more than warranted in my fears.
"That was when we were in a completely different type of relationship. I'm your wife now," she argued, keeping her voice low.
"Yes, and now more than ever I cannot bear to think of losing you."
"You won't," she said firmly.
I shook my head, seeing the disappointment in her gaze, the desperation of attempting to convince me. "You cannot guarantee with one hundred percent certainty what would happen," I told her.
"Neither can you," she countered.
"More than anything else in the world, putting you at risk frightens me, Julia," I blurted out. My voice shook with raw emotion and absolute truth.
"You're worried over nothing," she replied, her tone perfectly calm and assuring.
"You are everything to me and you already know I cannot care for Lisette and Alex without you. If we have another child, if you were to die in the process…I couldn't properly care for them. I couldn't. That is the truth. You may see my fears as petty or inconsequential, but I am afraid of losing you."
Realization set in and her eyes widened. She frowned and clasped my hand in both of hers. "Erik you have no idea how much another baby means to me. I don't see this as a risk."
"But I do," I stressed.
"I see this as all of my love for you," Julia blurted out, her voice trembling. "And forgive me for saying this, but I think you're being very selfish."
I knew by the way she pursed her lips that my gaze hardened. "My concern for you and for the welfare of our children is not selfish," I insisted. "To want to spend my life with you, enjoying your company, keeping you to myself now when we barely have a moment to ourselves as it is…yes, yes that is selfishness and I do not care."
She wiped her eyes. "I never wanted Lissy to grow up as an only child."
"But she's not. She has Alex."
"You don't understand," she continued. I had never heard her argue much and was surprised by how calm she remained, a woman of great intellect and reasoning. She kept me level-headed, prevented me from losing my temper and storming away.
"No, I don't understand," I replied, feeling as though we would reach an impasse. "We have an opportunity to raise two perfect, wonderful children together. No matter what, I would have loved Alex, but Julia, you know as well as I do that if he had been born in my image and not his mother's he would be shut out from society as much as I have been."
Her face went white, her expression twisting in horror. She started to shake her head, but I took her hands in mine.
"Please, listen to me. I would never, ever want a child—especially our daughter—to suffer a day of what I have lived," I told her honestly. "You and I would love our children no matter what, but there are many people, a great deal many people, who would not share our sentiment. Trust me, Julia, I have met them." I paused and looked away briefly, ashamed of my past and gravely concerned that any child would walk in my footsteps. "I have survived them."
She pulled away from me and clasped her hands together as though praying to change my mind. "What if we had a son just like you?" she mused. At first I thought her tone was mocking, but she offered a sincere smile. "A genius of a musician, a wonderful composer, Erik…"
"What if we did have a son just like me," I said sharply. "Or worse yet, a daughter as…"
"Don't," she warned.
We both fell awkwardly silent for a moment. I hoped she understood my trepidation and considered my fears. As much as I wanted to sympathize with her desire for another baby, my mind was set.
"If in a week I am not…then we don't have to try," she suddenly attempted to bargain. "We can be careful once more, but for this week…If we are meant to add another child to our family, then we will be blessed with another son or daughter. Does that sound fair?"
There was a certain amount of desperation to her tone and I felt a spike of sympathy. I recalled how I had fallen to my knees and begged Christine to have our child, how I had expected the birth of a son or daughter would seal her to me forever. Selfishly I wanted a family to keep her in my life, allow me to show her how deeply I cared.
In my mind, if we shared a son or daughter, we would be together forever. A baby would mend all the broken aspects. That was what I hoped for with the birth of our child.
I hadn't considered other details of our relationship, or what would happen if our baby resembled me instead of her. My greatest ignorance had always been a lack of forethought and I had not thought past each fleeting moment.
Ten years had passed and I had a great deal more on my mind. Julia asked for a week to allow Fate to decide. My own fate had always been decided by others, and even now I felt as though I had no control over my life. I was grateful my uncle had taken me from my parents, devastated by his passing, and nearly destroyed both mentally and physically by the years that had followed. For the most part, Fate had been a cruel and heartless dictator.
I had grown tired of being blindly led away, and I feared what more would happen, what could be passed down from a father to his son or daughter. With very little information on my family history, I had no idea if I was an oddity or if my traits could be carried on to my offspring.
I didn't want to find out.
However, for all I knew, Julia had already conceived. If she was with child then I would share in her joy yet still worry as time passed. If she was not in a family way, then I hoped she would be content with our current home and the children we could raise together.
Either way, I expected disappointment from one of us.
"A week," I confirmed at last, knowing by her anxious expression that she would not accept a different answer.
Julia sighed in relief. "Are you sure?" she questioned.
I was anything but sure. The push and pull of marriage seemed more like being dragged.
"A week," I said again. "Are you certain?"
The light returned to her eyes and she smiled again. "Two cottages," she said, winking at me. "And I intend to make the most of ours."
She truly knew precisely what to say in order to quicken my pulse and erase every thought in my mind. In one moment I wanted to firmly protest another addition to the family, but she held sway over me like no other and I wanted nothing more than to steal her away for the remainder of the afternoon.
"We do have two houses at the moment, both of which are at our disposal" I reminded her. The house seemed strangely quiet and I grabbed her by the hips. Looking deep into her hazel eyes, I pressed her to the wall, felt her fingers dig into my sides.
Julia bit her lower lip and swept her gaze over me, her eyes heavily lidded and a seductive smile on her face.
"And I don't believe we have a single person in need of our company," she whispered.
"Then hurry before that changes," I said as I grabbed her by the hand and rushed her up the stairs.
